Livin' the high life in Trinidad

Living 15' off the ground, up a wobbly ladder and out of the water is always a trying experience at best. This is certainly not the first time I've mentioned (complained about??) it. It's part of the cruising experience if you're out for more than a year or two. It's a necessary part of annual maintenance for us and this time we have some additional repairs/maintenance to tackle ... a new shaft seal, cutlass bearing and replacement of the engine through-hull. David will outline the repair/maintenance issues in an upcoming Blue Views. Me? I'm just here to whinge.

Probably the absolute worst thing for me when living on the hard is the pee bucket. We can't use the head at all, of course. During the day, it's a pain because every time you have to go it's a trip down the ladder, a walk to the toilet block and then back again. This takes careful planning and there's many a time that we cut conversation short with friends because nature is calling … and calling loudly. During the middle of the night, however, we resort to the bucket … easier for guys than girls, for sure and certainly much better than walking around the boatyard in the middle of the night. The first trip down the ladder in the morning includes the bucket which needs to be emptied and washed. You've been spared the pee bucket pics.

Then, of course, there's the gray water … water used for washing, dishes, etc. We've been trying to minimize cooking on the boat to minimize dishwashing and clean-up. Salads or one-pot recipes are the meals of choice whenever possible and though it's not very green, we've resorted to using paper plates. David inserted a hose in the galley sink thru-hull to catch the gray water. It many times has bits of food in it no matter how careful I am. Bits of food attracts bugs and Lord knows, we don't want critters aboard. We empty the gray water bucket frequently … away from the boat.

Speaking of bugs, there are many here, but so far (knock on wood), we've seen none aboard. We've been particularly careful at the internet building where we've seen lots of teeny, tiny sugar ants. They have a tendency to crawl on and into your laptop or your backpack or whatever you have with you and then you're stuck with them. They're hard to get rid of once they've taken up residence.

Being this high, we can feel the boat wobble a bit when the wind kicks up. Mostly the wind brings more dust and dirt. After the initial cockpit cleaning (which required a bulldozer), I find it necessary to wipe down the cockpit almost daily. In addition to the dirt, we seem to attract charcoal cinders from the local fires and bird droppings. It doesn't rain often, but when it does … mud pies on deck!

The boat is all closed up at the moment because of the A/C. There is a constant white noise that drowns out usual boatyard noises as well as morning birdsong. It's cool inside, but stuffy. Boat smells of diesel and a little mildew meld with errant bilge odors and cooking smells. You get used to it after a few minutes inside, but it's an affront to your nostrils when you first head down below. Wish I could post a “smell” link for you.

Usually when we plan to be on the hard for more than a week, we rent an apartment or at least a room. In Uruguay, we rented a casita for US$100/month which included bicycles in the deal. In Ecuador, it was a “suite” in an unfinished house close to the marina. There were feral ducks in the empty swimming pool and roosters in my kitchen … a tale unto itself for another time... but it worked out fine for us. This time, however, the cost of living off the boat is exorbitant and though we'll be here for over a month, there are no other reasonable options beyond living on the hard.

We're not alone. Misery loves company and we've got lots of company. The boatyard was full when we left. Now, since it's prime cruising season (before hurricane season starts) and since there have been increased costs in Trinidad, 12.5% VAT on all services plus more stringent import rules for parts and supplies, many boats have left. There are still lots of cruisers roaming around though, most working on their boats by day and, if they're not too tired, socializing a bit in the evening. One day blends into another. Weekends are nothing special. The goal is to complete our tasks and splash as soon as possible.

When we've had enough of boat work in the evenings, we head down to the wharf and look at the boats moored in the harbor, reminding us of why we're working so hard and what we're working towards. This, too, shall pass

A Year Ago on Just a Little Further (10/28-11/3)

What a difference a year makes!  What Nine of Cups and Crew were doing a year ago this week (click on links for full posts):

Australia's Antarctic Division

Wandering through the exhibits reminded us of our visit to the Antarctic Peninsular on the other side of the world in 2006. It was the trip of a lifetime. Ushuaia, Argentina is much closer to Antarctica than Australia (less than 1500 miles) and thus the trips are much more feasible. Antarctica's other worldly nature has made it one of the most spectacular places we've ever visited in our years of traveling and I doubt it will lose its place in our minds in the future.

Meat Pies in Tasmania

So the first time I popped into a pie shop here hoping to find something fruity and delicious, I was very surprised to find steak, bacon and cheese pies, curried veggie pies, sausage and egg pies, chicken pies, scallop pies and beef and kidney pies, but no “pie” pies. Did I mention we’re in Australia?

Life on the Hard

This is not the ideal life and certainly not one to be envious of. We climb up and down a vertical ladder to get on and off the boat. This is not an easy feat when 1) your hands are full going up or coming down or 2) you really have to go to the bathroom. The hands-full thing is easy. We use a line and heave or lower as necessary or even place things in a bucket for easy transport. Forgetting something up above or needing a tool down below in the middle of a project sometimes elicits curses.

Life on the Hard

It's a hard life “on the hard”. Living on land is usually a pleasant treat for us once in awhile, but not when the boat is hauled out of the water and we're living aboard. Many times when we've hauled out for big projects like in Ecuador and Uruguay, we've rented an apartment or a little house locally to make life a bit easier and we'd bike back and forth to the marina. This time, however, we're only planning to be out for week or so, and we've opted to live aboard ... on a boat out of the water, 12' above the ground, propped up by stands strategically placed around the hull to prevent us from tipping over, accessible only by ladder. This is not the ideal life and certainly not one to be envious of. We climb up and down a vertical ladder to get on and off the boat. This is not an easy feat when 1) your hands are full going up or coming down or 2) you really have to go to the bathroom. The hands-full thing is easy. We use a line and heave or lower as necessary or even place things in a bucket for easy transport. Forgetting something up above or needing a tool down below in the middle of a project sometimes elicits curses.

Having to go to the bathroom, on the other hand, is a real pain. We can't use the holding tanks when we're out of the water and thus, every time we need to go (which seems to be quite frequently at our age), we climb down the ladder and walk quite a distance to take care of our business. I counted 270 steps to the toilet block. David counted in yards and we compared measurements to determine that we're ~606' or close to 1/10 of a mile from the toilet. That's a long, long walk when you've really gotta go. We travel down the ladder, down a hill, across the slipway tracks, up a hill and, if it's rainy, through the mud, just to get to the toilet. I confess, we use a pee bucket for middle of the night needs. I'd rather carry the bucket to the toilet block in the morning and empty it out, than climb down the ladder at 2am.

Another issue, of course, is cleaning up after cooking. Where does the water go? Gray water usually just drains back out into the sea. On the hard, we can't do that. We usually stick a hose in the galley sink through-hull on the bottom of the boat and move a large bucket underneath. I use water sparingly to wash and rinse dishes, brush our teeth, etc and we empty the gray water bucket regularly.

There are new and different sounds. Gone is the gentle lap of water against the hull and the usual boat sounds like the eeeek of the docklines as they stretch and strain or the crunch of the fenders between us and the dock. Instead wayward halyards are slapping or plastic tarps are flapping on nearby, unoccupied boats.

Everyone else here lives locally. There are no other liveaboards, so we're quite by ourselves in the evenings. When the wind whips through the boatyard, the boat shakes and shivers. She's well balanced and supported in her cradle, but she still shudders when the wind gusts and it's an unnerving feeling.

Only a week on the hard is planned and it'll go by quickly with so much to do. There's nothing like a little inconvenience to make you appreciate what you usually take for granted.

On the positive side, our new altitude provides us with an absolutely commanding view of the boatyard. When we're not down on the ground working ourselves, we can watch all the activity going on around us from a front row seat, high above it all.

And, we now have three bars on our mobile phone.